


Strange Sights

by this_is_how_we_get_ants



Series: Strange Things [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Domestic Steve Rogers, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Magic, Too much plaid?, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_how_we_get_ants/pseuds/this_is_how_we_get_ants
Summary: Steve and Loki are left alone at Bobby's house.





	Strange Sights

**Author's Note:**

> So it's been a while since I posted anything... *Throws fic and runs away*

           “Honey I’m home!” Dean swung open the front door.

            Loki wrinkled his nose as he turned to watch Dean dramatically sweep into the house, and Steve couldn’t help the smile that pulled from his lips.  Sam followed a few feet behind Dean.

            “Boys,” a middle aged man wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and a hat appeared in the doorway.  He gave Dean an exasperated look, shaking his head.

            “Hey Bobby,” Sam said warmly as he passed through the doorway.

            Bobby nodded slightly, a fond look in his eyes, before turning away to rejoin Loki in the study.

            “So what have you three oldies been up to while we kids were away?” Dean asked as he swept into the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge, tossing one to Sam and opening the other against the edge of the counter.

            Loki scoffed, turning his attention back to the book in front of him.  He had effectively taken over Bobby’s study.  There were even more piles of books and papers scattered throughout the room than there had been when they’d arrived.  Bobby had conscripted Loki’s services in translating some of the more obscure books that he had acquired over the years.  Naturally, the work had been right up Loki’s alley and the past months had seen many translations completed.  Though Loki insisted that there was a very effective system of organization at work, Steve had his doubts. 

            While Loki had been busy with his work in the library, Steve had been making repairs around the house.  He had discovered that he was actually pretty handy, and it felt good to have something to do with his hands.  The two months that he and Loki had been staying with Bobby had seen the roof patched, some of the ancient plumbing fixed up, and general overall upkeep that had been neglected over the years.  At least in doing work around the property, Steve felt like he was doing something to pay for the great debt they owed Bobby who was allowing them to remain as houseguests with no departure date.

            Meanwhile, the Winchester brothers had been busy traveling the country hunting demons and monsters and whatever that entailed.  Loki had been slowly but steadily regaining his strength over the last two months since Castiel had repaired his soul.  Steve still couldn’t believe that those kinds of sentences actually made sense, let alone described his life.  He supposed that was just part of being a dimensional traveler from an alternate timeline.  The thought made him fight down a private smile.

            “How was work?” Steve asked, as if he were simply referring to their work as accountants or something normal.

            Dean shrugged, “Getting a lot of weird ones lately.”

            “Any luck with the search?” Sam asked, leaning in the study doorway.

            Loki didn’t look up, but Bobby and Steve exchanged a look.  Steve turned to Sam and shook his head.  Sam nodded in reply, taking a pull from his beer.

            “Jesus!  This place looks so… clean,” Dean’s voice rang out from where he had retreated back into the kitchen.  “Did someone fix the leaky faucet?  What the hell has been going on here?”

            “Cap is quite the handyman, as it turns out,” Bobby chuckled.

            “He repairs things when he’s anxious, which is always,” Loki muttered, not looking up from the book he was studying.

            “Guess we shoulda brought you house guests sooner,” Dean slapped his brother on the shoulder and they snickered.

             “These two earn their keep better than either of you idjits.”

            “Right.  Speaking of earning our keep, you got anything new for us, Bobby?” Dean asked.

            “There’s always something new,” Bobby groused. 

            As if hearing Bobby’s words, one of his many phones began ringing insistently.  He muttered something under his breath as he pushed past the others to answer it.

            Bobby was off the phone in a couple of minutes.  He hurried through the study going straight towards the stairs and yelling for Dean.  Dean appeared at the foot of the stairs, and he and Bobby headed out to the front porch.  They were probably looking for Sam so they could have one of their supernatural conferences.  Whenever they could, they held their pow-wows away from Loki who had become a supernatural know-it-all very quickly and loved to contribute.   Loki didn’t look up even once.  Steve sighed and went in search of his toolbox; he’d been meaning to look at that creaky stair.

. . .

            Steve looked up from the tread he was repairing on the basement staircase when he heard the door open and shut.  Dean and Bobby appeared, Bobby heading upstairs and Dean passing by Steve as he descended into the basement.  There was some clanging and a few muttered curses from below, but Dean was once again passing by Steve after only a few minutes.  Bobby came down with a beat-up duffel bag before he and Dean headed towards the library.  Curiosity drove Steve to abandon his project when he heard Dean and Sam arguing.

            Both brothers were holding books in their hands and gesturing angrily at each other.  Bobby finally stepped up and swiped the books from them with a grunt.  That didn’t seem to stop the arguing, though.  Loki slowly raised his eyes from his book, death-glaring at the Winchesters’ backs.  Perhaps Bobby noticed the look because he was suddenly between the brothers, cutting the argument short. 

            Bobby turned to face Steve.  “We’re headed out on a case.  Some nasty business over in Michigan.”

            “What?  _Michigan_?” Steve felt alarm rising in his belly at the unexpected words.  The entire time he and Loki had been there, Bobby had never left the house in their care for more than a few hours.  For good reason, too. 

            Loki looked up a glint of interest appearing in his eyes as he looked between the others in the room like a snake about to strike.  It did nothing to appease Steve’s nerves.  As if he could hear Steve’s thoughts, Loki turned to him with a malicious flash of teeth.  Steve swallowed hard and looked away.  He was pretty sure, no he was _absolutely sure_ , that look spelled trouble for his near future.

            “Pretty sure Michigan existed back in your day, Cap,” Dean thumped Steve on the back as he and Sam headed out to the car.

            “Should be back in a few days,” Bobby said.  “If there’s trouble, you go to the panic room like I told ya.  Don’t let nobody in, don’t answer the phones,” he shot Loki a look, probably remembering the last time he had been gone for a couple of hours.  Loki had taken it upon himself to answer the phones each time they rang with a snarl and a few, admittedly creative, threats.  “And stay outta trouble.  I laid out the salt lines, but check ’em every night.”  Bobby paused, looking around the room carefully before turning back with a serious expression.  “No cars,” he said simply.

            Steve blushed at the cars comment; that had not been one of his finer moments.  “Yes, Sir,” he said.

            Bobby grunted in response, glancing over his shoulder at Loki before turning to Steve with a meaningful look on his face.  Steve understood the unspoken instructions and nodded.  He would do his best to curtail Loki’s experiments.  As long as he didn’t get a hold of any grasshoppers- Steve was probably going to have nightmares about that for the rest of his life- he should be able to manage things.  Just to be safe, he surreptitiously rapped his fist against the wooden molding of the doorframe.

. . .

            Steve hummed to himself, closing the oven door with his hip.  He wiped his hands on the patchwork apron that had appeared in the kitchen after he started cooking.  Loki was in the study, fast asleep on the couch with a book over his chest.  Honestly, Steve didn’t think he’d ever known a heavier sleeper.  Sure, he’d just been making muffins and he’d been pretty quiet, but he could have been screaming bloody murder and Loki wouldn’t so much as twitch in his sleep. 

            When he peeked around the corner, Steve’s contented mood gave way to panic.  Loki was nowhere in sight.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tamping down the alarm and anger bubbling up.  Just as he was about to begin a full-scale search Loki appeared in the doorway watching Steve with one curiously arched brow.  Steve clenched his jaw to keep from bursting out unnecessarily.  No one else could get under his skin as quickly and efficiently as Loki.

            Loki followed Steve into the kitchen.  “Are those blueberry muffins?  I hope they’re not those awful things you made last week.”

            Steve’s movements were measured, almost mechanical, as he pulled the two muffin trays out of the oven and struggled not to throw them at Loki’s face. 

            Once the oven door was closed, Loki was immediately peering over his shoulder.  “Blueberry?” he repeated hopefully.

            Steve swatted Loki’s hand away.  “Yes, they’re blueberry!”  He hated to admit it, wishing that he had made the cinnamon raisin muffins that Loki had hated so much.  Instead, for some reason, he had made the blueberry muffins that he knew Loki loved. 

            As Steve went about cleaning up the kitchen Loki plucked one of the fresh muffins out of the tin and dropped into a kitchen stair.  Steve could feel Loki’s eyes on him as he scrubbed at the dishes.  He could feel the all-too familiar blush creeping up his neck and over his ears.  “What?” he finally demanded.

            Loki shook his head slightly and focused on Steve’s eyes.  “Hmm?”

            “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

             “Oh, I was just measuring your head.”

            Steve spluttered, completely caught off balance, “Why?”

            “Not important,” Loki waved a hand dismissively. 

            “I’m pretty sure I want to know why you’re measuring my head,” Steve countered.  “It’s important to me.”

            Loki rolled his eyes, as he was prone to doing, before he replied.  “I need a skull.”

            This time Steve outright choked.  He leaned back against the counter and stared at Loki who snagged his third muffin nonchalantly.  Honestly, Steve really didn’t want to know what Loki would be doing that would require a human skull.  After the incident with the toaster, Bobby had banned Loki from doing his experiments upstairs.  (Steve had spent a week patching the hole in the roof).  Since then, Loki had taken to using Bobby’s panic room.  No one really knew what exactly he was doing, and none of them ever asked.

            “Oh relax,” Loki retorted.  “Yours is too big anyway.”  He bit into yet another muffin chewing thoughtfully.  “You bury your dead, correct?  Perhaps we can find one in the yard somewhere.” 

            Steve raised his eyebrows.  He didn’t like it when Loki took to using ‘we’.  That almost always led to trouble.  Either that or it led to Steve doing manual labor while Loki critiqued his work, and even then it usually ended poorly.  Digging around in Bobby’s yard trying to find skulls definitely sounded like a recipe for serious trouble with a side of unpleasant work for Steve.

            “No.”  Steve stood up, shaking his head as he cleared the dishes.  He was about to add that people didn’t bury bodies in their backyards, but he paused when he realized that Bobby Singer might well be the exception to that rule.  “It’s disrespectful to disturb the dead.  You don’t just go around helping yourself to peoples’ remains, Loki.”

            “It’s not like they need them anymore,” Loki groused.  “Surely we could find a vagrant’s skull somewhere.”

            “A _vagrant?_ ”

            Loki huffed and pushed away from the table.  He muttered something under his breath that Steve didn’t quite catch before disappearing upstairs presumably to change out of the clothes he’d fallen asleep in the day before.  Steve rested his hands against the counter pushing away the tenseness that had accumulated in his muscles during the last half hour.  It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and he was already desperate for the others to return from their hunt.

. . .

             Steve woke abruptly, feeling wild and on edge.  As soon as his eyes adjusted he was able to push away some of the anxious tension from his suddenly all too alert body.  It had just been a dream.  He couldn’t remember exactly what it had been about, but he was pretty sure he could guess.  Almost all of his nightmares were centered on falling, after all.  Whether he was on the train, plunging towards the ice, or spiraling through time and space: he was always falling. 

            Rubbing his palms roughly over his face, Steve took a deep breath.  A muffled snore from the bed next to his helped bring him back to the moment.  Loki shifted under his covers, and Steve relaxed a bit more.  He reached for the nightstand, fumbling for his phone.  The screen glowed _4:46 AM_ , and Steve dropped it and leaned back against his pillow. 

            Whenever he had these dreams he found that he was unable to go back to sleep; there was too much adrenaline pumping through his system.  He debated for a moment before slipping out of his bed and grabbing a sweatshirt off the floor.  A run would help him clear his head and burn up some of the aimless energy.

. . .

            When he returned from his run, Steve took a quick shower upstairs.  The water pressure was much improved compared to when they’d first arrived.  He remembered the disaster that had been Loki’s first encounter with Bobby’s shower.  It still brought a slight blush to the surface.  Fixing the shower had been one of his first repairs, although Loki still complained about it constantly. 

            Upon finishing his shower, Steve realized he hadn’t brought any clothes to change into.  Naturally, as soon as Steve determined the coast was clear and stepped out of the bathroom he ran smack into Loki.  It was a ridiculously clichéd scene, and yet there Steve stood with a towel wrapped around his waist blushing furiously as Loki stared at him.  He cleared his throat awkwardly and attempted to side-step around Loki.  Unfortunately, Loki had the same idea and they ended up doing the awkward dance where they both kept trying to get out of the way.  Finally, Loki tugged at the hem of his slightly too large plaid shirt and nodded curtly at Steve before stepping around him and heading down the stairs.

            Steve remained awkwardly in the hallway for another moment before taking a deep breath and rushing into his room.  He slammed the door behind him, still blushing, and headed for his stash of clothing.  His wardrobe was largely composed of hand-me-downs from Sam, which meant that his wardrobe consisted of jeans and plaid shirts that were just a bit too small.  In fact, everyone in the house wore mostly plaid, even Loki.  Although Loki wore his shirts buttoned to the top and managed to look like what Dean referred to as either a hipster or an asshat, depending on the day and his mood.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, Steve apparently looked like ‘an old geezer’.  Dean insisted that this was due to the fact that Steve insisted on tucking in his shirts.  Actually Dean had a lot of opinions when they all wore essentially the same clothing. 

. . .

            “I believe I have found the appropriate tool for our excavation.”

            “Gah!”  Steve’s heart thundered into overtime.  He turned to find Loki holding a shovel just behind him.

            “What?” Steve said irritably.

            Loki looked at him like one would look at a small child who was struggling to understand a difficult concept.  “For the skull, Steven.”

            Steve rubbed his palms over his face taking a moment before he answered.  “We’re not digging up Bobby’s yard.”

            “Fine, it doesn’t have to be here,” Loki thrust the shovel at Steve.

            Steve narrowed his eyes and changed tactics, “Why do you need a skull anyway?”

            Loki offered a demure smile as a response.

            “No, nope.  I am not doing this,” Steve turned his back again.

            “Fine, I suppose I shall just have to find a more… creative solution.”

            Steve froze.  That didn’t sound good.  ‘Creative solution’ sounded an awful lot like crazy experiment.  He couldn’t let Loki destroy the house while their host was away.  Before he could think better of it, he was reaching out and grabbing hold of Loki’s shoulder.

            Loki spun around, eyes shooting daggers at Steve.  Steve ignored him, choosing to look in Loki’s eyes.  They stood like that for a long silent moment before Loki very purposefully reached up and removed Steve’s hand from his shoulder.  With one last glare, he turned and marched back towards the house.

…

            So maybe he wasn’t fighting aliens, or demons, or a world war, but Steve was still _hungry_.  He hated how much food he consumed when he wasn’t paying for any of it, but his body would not allow him to go hungry.  And that was how he found himself in the kitchen, sneaking around in the dark looking for a snack.

            At first there was a slight rumble, which caused Steve to pause and look around suspiciously.  Just when he thought he had imagined it, the whole house began to shake violently.  He couldn’t even hear the glass breaking as his dishes fell to the floor followed by his body.  Steve looked around in a panic.  Was this a demon?  Were they under attack?  Had he forgotten to check the salt lines?

            His eyes fell on a strange golden light emanating from beneath the basement door.  _Loki_.  Steve wanted to be angry, but he was too worried.  The house hadn’t stopped quaking, although the deafening sound that had accompanied it was beginning to lessen.  As he fought to crawl along the floor to the basement door, the light grew brighter before fading slightly and the shaking of the ground became gradually less tumultuous underneath him. 

            The light was brighter when he opened the door, and he had to shield his eyes as he stumbled down the stairs.  He tripped over one of the last steps and fell to the cement floor with a grunt.  When he saw that the door to the panic room was open, golden light flooding out from within, his stomach knotted slightly.  Steve had no idea what to expect, but he took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.

            There was only a split second, when he had one foot in and one foot out, that he saw the strange drawings on the floor.  Loki was on the floor, seemingly unconscious, with dirt up to his elbows and both hands cradling a skull.  Steve rushed to move towards him.  Instead, as soon as both of his feet were firmly planted inside the panic room, he was transported.  In the blink of an eye, a mist was suddenly circling thickly around him.  His feet kept moving forward through the impenetrable mist.  It felt as if his body knew where he was going, but Steve’s brain wasn’t in on the secret.

            When he came to a stop, the mist swirled before dissipating enough to reveal three female figures and an enormous, ancient tree.  Standing beneath it, he felt very small and insignificant.  The trunk alone was several times wider than Steve’s own body.  There were unfamiliar markings etched into the bark everywhere that his eyes fell.  It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and he probably would have continued to stand and stare at the magnificent sight forever if a voice hadn’t addressed him. 

            “Steven Grant Rogers,” a chorus of ethereal female voices filled Steve’s mind.

            He looked around wildly, unable to spot any other signs of life.    

            “Steven Grant Rogers,” the voices repeated, at once breathy and commanding.  The whole situation should have probably had him freaking out, but he was strangely calm instead.  Somehow, he was sure that he wasn’t in danger; that was not the point of whatever this was.

            “Yes?” he replied uncertainly, eyes darting around uncertainly.

             “Steven Grant Rogers, you wish to know your fate?”

            Steve blinked, trying to process what he had just been told.  “What?”

            The invisible women, or at least their spokesperson, seemed to ignore Steve’s bewildered expression.  “Steven Grant Rogers, son of Midgard, you are far from home.”

            The words caused a lump to rise unexpectedly in Steve’s throat and he swallowed hard.  He was so far from home in so many ways that he didn’t even know what home was anymore.  Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he was expected to respond, so he simply waited for the disembodied voices to continue.

            “Magic always has a price, Steven.  You are strong, Steven, but you will not be able to pay this toll on your own.  Let your allies help you, son of Midgard; you bear the weight of too much on your shoulders already.

            “Time does not take kindly to being defied, and you have defied him on more than most.  As a result, the path ahead of you now is filled with dangers.  Do not lose hope, son of Midgard, for there is much happiness to be had in this world for you, as well.

            “Your fate is changeable, but it is deeply entwined with that of another.  You must not try to face these coming trials on your own.

            Steve’s head was spinning; overwhelmed by the weighty words.  He opened and shut his mouth several times, questions flitting through his mind and disappearing before he could voice them.  The rumbling sound was starting again in the distance.

             “Go forth into your new world, Steven Grant Rogers, but be wary of whom you trust.”

            The mist suddenly flared back up in front of Steve, erasing the tree.  It continued to thicken as the rumbling grew louder and louder until the ground beneath Steve’s feet was once again shaking and he fell to his hands and knees.  He closed his eyes when the bright golden light returned, curling in on himself in a weak defense against the melee of sensations.  Time stood still until suddenly he was aware of the cold, hard ground beneath his hands and knees.  When he finally convinced his eyes to open, he sagged in relief to find himself back in Bobby’s basement.

…

            A sudden silence filled the space as the pale hand dropped to the ground and life left the large green eyes.  The strange blade turned, and it seemed to glow as it arced towards Steve’s chest.  He found himself entranced by the iridescence, watching raptly as it plunged into his chest.  His mouth dropped open as the tip of the blade barreled through him, a sensation of his body pulling apart and exploding overriding all of his senses.  Summoning all of his remaining strength he turned his head to see his attacker.

            Steve woke with a start.  His heart was racing in his chest and he gripped the sheets with his fists, trying to force his body to relax.  He realized he had been dreaming; it had just been another nightmare.  And yet, this one had felt different.  There was something a little too real about the sound of Loki taking his last ragged breath, the rapid pulse pounding in Steve’s ears, and the nearly indescribable feeling of the blade slipping between his ribs.  He found himself running his palms over his face in an attempt to wipe away tears that weren’t there.  

            With a shuddering sigh, Steve stretched his muscles.  He was surprised to find that he felt stiff.  He was also surprised to find that he was stripped down to his boxer briefs and nothing else.  As far as he could remember, he had been fully dressed when he passed out.  This was slightly disconcerting, but he was slammed by a sudden thirst that overtook any other concerns.  There was a glass of water on the nightstand next to his bed and he swallowed it down in two gulps. 

            An alarm clock lay beside the now empty glass, and Steve checked the time.  **3:48 PM** flashed across the screen and Steve winced.  He had no idea how long he had been out.  Hopefully it hadn’t been more than a couple hours.  Although he couldn’t shake the feeling that his nap had been longer than he thought as he pulled a sweatshirt and well-worn sweatpants on and hurried to find Loki.

            When Steve reached the foot of the stairs, he heard voices in the kitchen.  It took a minute for the alarm to hit him.  Who the hell was Loki talking to?  They weren’t supposed to let anybody in while Bobby and the Winchesters were away.  He rushed toward the kitchen, and the voices, only to find Sam and Dean chatting.  Loki wasn’t even in the room.  Steve paused in the doorway.  Maybe he was still dreaming?

            “Well if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty!” Dean exclaimed when he caught sight of Steve.  

            Sam looked up with a smile, “Hey!  How are you feeling?”

            Steve floundered, unable to think of any words to say.  The sound of the door opening and closing saved him as Bobby and Loki appeared in the study each holding a small stack of books.  Loki froze when he spotted Steve, a strange combination of fear, relief, and uncertainty flitted across his face. 

            “Hey,” Steve beamed at Loki.  A strange, soft golden halo of light seemed to be surrounding Loki.  It must have been the way the late afternoon sun was filtering through the window, Steve decided.

            “Now he’s awake,” Bobby grumbled, “Soon as all the heavy lifting’s done.”  There was a hint of concern in Bobby’s voice that Steve didn’t miss. 

            Steve filled a glass to buy himself some time before turning and looking straight at Loki.  “How long was I out?”

            Loki’s eyes dropped nervously, but he didn’t hesitate when he responded, “Thirty hours.”

            “What!” The drink of water Steve had just taken sprayed all over the floor.  He grabbed a kitchen chair and sank down. 

            “Seriously, we thought maybe Snape here had used you in a human sacrifice or something,” Dean snorted.

            Sam scowled at his brother, “Except Loki just woke up a couple hours ago himself.”

            Steve’s head snapped in Loki’s direction.  Loki pursed his lips, but Steve could see how rattled he was.  He made a snap decision, rising abruptly.  “Can I talk to you?” Not waiting for an answer, Steve headed for the back door. 

            When they were both standing outside, arms crossed and regarding one another warily, Steve sighed.  “What the hell was that, Loki?  What happened to me in the basement?”

            Loki frowned guiltily.  “You were never supposed to be involved…” he trailed off before taking a deep breath and continuing, “Tell me what you saw.”

            Steve ran a palm roughly over his face and glanced towards the house.  He motioned for Loki to follow him and headed towards his favorite tree.  It was towards the back edge of the property.  On one of his morning runs, Steve had found it and discovered it had a great view of the sunrise. 

            Sinking to the grass, he waited for Loki to sit beside him before starting his story.  “I really don’t know what happened, Loki.  It was so weird, I mean it felt real, but it must have been a hallucination or something.”  When Loki offered no response, Steve continued, “I stepped in the panic room, and then I wasn’t there anymore.  There was a huge tree, like the biggest I’ve ever seen.  It was…” he trailed off, not finding the perfect word.  “Anyway, there were these, um, voices?  They said a lot of weird stuff.”

            Loki inhaled sharply. 

            “What?” Steve narrowed his eyes.

            Loki sighed, “I attempted to summon the Norns.  There was a spell in one of the books, using inherent natural magic from objects,” he cleared his throat at Steve’s confused expression, “I wished to find some answers to our current situation, but somehow you were transported to Yggdrasil to receive their counsel when you entered the room.”  He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye, as if he expected a rebuke.  When Steve remained quiet, Loki spoke again, “Would you- do you mind,” he seemed flustered, which was very un-Loki-like.  He took a deep breath and huffed in frustration.  “May I ask what they said to you?”

            Steve stared off towards the horizon, recalling the strange encounter.  “They said that I needed to pay a price,” he chuckled humorlessly.  “I don’t- Oh!  They said that my fate was entwined with another.  Actually they really stressed that I couldn’t handle whatever this ‘price’ is without help.”

            Loki had a strange look on his face.  “Did they tell you the identity of this person your fate is entwined with?”

            Steve shook his head, “No, they just said that my fate was entwined with that of another lost soul, or something like that.”

            “But they said nothing of returning to your timeline, your dimension?”

            “No,” Steve said, toying with the zipper on his sweatshirt.  “They just told me all that stuff and to be wary.  Next thing I knew I was back in Bobby’s panic room,” he glanced up.

            “Hmm,” Loki hummed.  His eyes went unfocused as he gazed off into space.  Steve found himself staring and ducked his head.   

            “So you said I was ‘also transported’.  Does that mean you talked to them, too?”

            “Mmm,” Loki’s gaze remained distant.

            Steve wanted to challenge Loki; he wondered what the Norns had had to say to the other man.  Something stopped him from pushing the issue, though.  Instead he simply leaned back against the tree.

            He wondered if Loki felt it, too.  There was something in the air, something in his blood that he didn’t understand.  Maybe it had something to do with the way the light softened Loki’s edges, or the breeze ruffled his hair.  All Steve knew for sure was that he hadn’t felt this at ease in a very long time.  He felt the corner of his mouth turn up as he gazed at Loki in his peripheral vision.  Loki looked up, as if sensing Steve’s smile, and tentatively offered one of his own.  It was different from the other smiles Steve had seen on Loki’s face since they had met.  This one was smaller and much more real, even with the tired edges that slipped through his normally impeccable facade.  As they watched each other, an echo played in Steve’s mind: ‘ _two lost souls_.’ 

            The thought surprised him and he looked away, hoping to hide the confusion he was feeling.  _Lost souls_ : the thought continued to repeat itself.  Could it be?  It seemed so far-fetched that not that long ago he was waking up to find himself in a new century.  Yet now he woke up every day in an alternate dimension where he lived with a trio of demon hunters and an actual alien.

            For the first time in a while he let his mind wander to the other dimension, the one where all of this had all begun.  He wondered what was happening back there.  There were so many lingering questions that piled up whenever he let himself go down that path.  What had happened after he and Loki disappeared?  Were the Avengers able to stop the alien invasion and save New York?  Had anyone looked for him or Loki?  Did they have any idea what had become of them? 

            The questions didn’t feel as urgent anymore, though.  Part of him certainly wished he could reassure the new friends that he’d made that he was OK.  Another part of him shied away from that thought, wanting to keep this new life all to himself.  He couldn’t stand the thought of it all being taken away from him.  Not this time, not again.  He was so tired of starting over.  Maybe, _just maybe_ , he could be happy here like the Norns said.  And maybe he could finally _belong_ ; maybe this group of misfits could be his family now.  If only he could rid himself of that niggling little voice in the back of his head telling him to ‘ _be wary_ ’. 

****

**_Meanwhile in another dimension…_ **

****

            “Are you sure this is the place?” Bruce tugged at his collar nervously as he glanced around the city street behind them.

            Tony scoffed, “Of course this is the place.”

            Just as Tony raised his fist to knock on the door, it swung open.  Tony’s balance faltered slightly at the sudden and unexpected movement, but he quickly straightened himself and walked in like he belonged there.  Bruce didn’t like this at all, but still he cautiously followed Tony into the dim foyer.  Naturally, the heavy door shut behind them seemingly on its own.

            “Tony,” Bruce started under his breath.

            Tony waved a hand at him dismissively, busy taking in the space they had just entered.

            It was quite impressive, if a bit foreboding.  Polished dark wood seemed to cover most everything.  A staircase led to another open floor where Bruce could see shelves filled with books.  He gaped at the sheer volume of books he could see from his current vantage point.  Turning to confer with Tony, Bruce found that Tony was already halfway up the stairs.  With one last glance around the foyer Bruce hurried to follow his friend.

            “Anthony Stark and Dr, Bruce Banner,” a deep voice spoke, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

            Bruce turned in place, looking all around trying to find the source of the voice.  He didn’t see anyone, just books and glass cases filled with various curiosities.

            “Are you the Sorcerer Supreme?” Tony asked the air.

            Bruce swung around to look at his friend.  _Sorcerer Supreme_?  What the hell was he talking about?

            A shape detached from the shadows and a man stepped forward.  He had dark hair graying at the temples and smartly groomed facial hair.  In many ways he reminded Bruce of Tony, actually, right down to the dramatic entrance.  Except there was one very large difference; Tony wasn’t wearing a cape.  Upon closer inspection the man actually appeared to be dressed for some sort of LARP or a convention.  Although, something told Bruce that wasn’t the case.  _Sorcerer Supreme_?

            “I am Doctor Stephen Strange.”

            “Great.  I’m Tony Stark, but you already said that, so let’s get down to business.  I need your help to find a friend of mine.”


End file.
